


The Ghosts That Haunt Us

by Atsuki-hime (Atsuki_hime)



Series: The Ghosts That Haunt Us [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsuki_hime/pseuds/Atsuki-hime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakashi knows that on the battlefield, Iruka witnessed something happen that changed him – something that still haunts him.</p><p>Kakashi knows this, because the ghosts he saw in Iruka’s eyes are the same ones he saw in the mirror for almost two decades after Rin died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spycaptain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spycaptain/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank tackygoldring for her amazing beta work and constant support throughout the writing process. Without her, this fic would not be possible. Any mistakes that are left are mine and mine alone.

**October**

 

Five days after the end of the Fourth Shinobi World War, most of Konoha’s shinobi come home en masse.

 

It’s a time for celebration. The streets of Konoha are swarming with people practically shoulder-to-shoulder and moving in all directions. Friends and loved ones gather to greet the return of the war heroes, an event full of laughter, tears, warmth and consolation. The greatest threat to human kind has been eliminated, and every living shinobi that has returned is a gift.

 

Hatake Kakashi, one of the Commanders in the Allied Shinobi Forces, is amongst these living shinobi. Sporting two gray eyes, both uncovered, he keeps to the sidelines as civilians and shinobi crowd the streets. He slowly makes his way to the Academy where the Godaime is waiting for him, eyeing the crowd along the way.

 

Despite the war, despite the loss of the Sharingan, despite Obito’s death and despite all of the other casualties, Kakashi is filled with an overwhelming sense of relief as he makes his way through the crowded streets. He fought for this – for all of these people to be alive and well, to reunite soldiers with their loved ones, to bring peace to all ninja. Even though he still hasn’t had much time to fully process all of the events of the war, there is something deep down inside of his core that feels lighter, and Kakashi thinks he walks a little straighter because of it.

 

Every few minutes, someone pats Kakashi on the shoulder or shakes his hand and congratulates him for bringing the Hidden Leaf shinobi home safe. He smiles humbly at each person through his mask and accepts their gratitude, but continues his slow journey to the Academy. He could have easily traveled across the rooftops instead of the streets, but the cheer and joy of the people of Konoha welcoming their shinobi home is infectious. Kakashi basks in it.

 

It reminds him that he made it out alive.

 

The outside of the Academy is flooded with people as well, especially with small children welcoming their parents home from the war. Near the entrance to the Administration Building, Kakashi sees a crowd of familiar faces – Sakura, Sai, Ino, Chouji, Shikamaru, and Hinata are gathered together, talking amongst themselves. They all seem in good spirits with smiles on their faces, except for Sai, but Kakashi suspects Sai doesn’t fully comprehend the whole “smiling” thing yet.

 

Sakura spots Kakashi and waves at him. He waves two fingers at her in an unspoken greeting, but continues on his way. There are still many loose ends to tie up now that the war has ended, and his work is not yet done. The Godaime awaits, and he thinks that he has kept her waiting long enough.

 

Except, as he’s about to enter the Administration Building, something catches Kakashi’s attention from the corner of his eye. Several feet away, along the wall of the building, stand Naruto and Umino Iruka. They’re far enough away where he can’t hear what they’re saying without using his chakra, but close enough where he can read their facial expressions.

 

Naruto is chattering away at a mile a minute, using his hands for emphasis while he tells his story. Kakashi can only see Iruka’s profile, but he can tell Iruka is listening to Naruto’s story intently. Iruka has a sag in his shoulders that suggests fatigue – Kakashi knows that Iruka was on the battlefield for most of the war, and is not surprised that the Academy sensei is tired.

 

Kakashi watches them, a part of his subconscious telling him that something seems off about the pair. He becomes even more intrigued when Naruto’s heated storytelling cools down to silence between the two, and he can see something like worry on Naruto’s face. Naruto says something and puts his hand on Iruka’s shoulder. Iruka covers Naruto’s hand with his own, and after several seconds of even more silence, says something that makes Naruto frown.

 

Naruto opens his mouth to say something more, but Iruka cuts him off and then smiles. Naruto’s frown deepens, but he ends up embracing the Academy sensei for a few long moments before parting from Iruka and heading over to where Sakura and the rest are standing. Naruto nods at Kakashi in acknowledgment when he passes Kakashi by, and Kakashi returns the nod.

 

Kakashi glances back at Iruka, and Iruka is watching Naruto. A few seconds later, Iruka’s eyes widen visibly as if he’s realized something, and turns slowly to face Kakashi. Something in the pit of Kakashi’s stomach drops, but he doesn’t let the discomfort show on his face as he meets Iruka’s eyes.

 

Everything about Umino Iruka appears to be normal, if only overrun with fatigue. He isn’t suffering from any major wounds, he’s dressed in the same Konoha shinobi garb that all other Konoha shinobi are wearing, and his hair is pulled back in the same style it always is. His Shinobi Allied Forces hitai-ate is tied neatly across his forehead.

 

As Iruka closes the distance between them, Kakashi confirms that yes, everything about Umino Iruka appears to be normal. Everything except his eyes.

 

Dark brown eyes that were always vibrant and kind, accepting and attentive, were now distant and haunted.

 

Even as Iruka approaches Kakashi with a small smile meant to portray friendliness, it never reaches his eyes. Kakashi is stricken, because out of all the shinobi in Konoha, he would never have imagined he’d see Umino Iruka robbed of his warmth.

 

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka greets him kindly, though the effect is useless when Iruka looks at him with those eyes.

 

“Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi returns.

 

“I would like to offer my gratitude to you for bringing our shinobi home safe,” Iruka says, and Kakashi nods, having heard this spiel many times over the last five days. However, Iruka continues, “I would also like to offer my utmost appreciation of you protecting of Naruto and making sure he made it out alive.”

 

“Thank you, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi replies. Something in Iruka’s voice tells him that Iruka’s gratitude is genuine. “I appreciate your thanks, but it’s not needed. I would have done anything to protect Naruto.”

 

“Would you have died for him?”

 

The question catches Kakashi off guard, but Iruka is still peering at him with those haunted eyes, awaiting an answer.

 

“Yes,” Kakashi answers simply. Iruka looks like he’s thinking the answer over, as if he’s contemplating whether or not the answer is acceptable.

 

“Then I owe you more than my gratitude,” Iruka replies after a few seconds of silence, bowing politely. “Please excuse me, Kakashi-san, I must get going now.”

 

“Of course, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi says, watching as Iruka turns on his heel to leave. Iruka takes two steps before stopping, looking back at Kakashi over his shoulder.

 

“I’m also grateful that you came out of the war alive, Kakashi-san,” Iruka says softly, just loud enough for Kakashi to hear. “Naruto cares for you deeply, and it would have broken him if you hadn’t survived.”

 

Several seconds of silence tick by, and Kakashi is about to say something when Iruka beats him to it.

 

“It’s nice to see both of your eyes for a change,” Iruka comments, his voice a little lighter than when he was professing his gratitude. Iruka doesn’t wait for a response, though, turning back on his path away from the Academy, presumably to go home.

 

Kakashi watches him for a few more moments, the sinking feeling in his stomach still persisting. He feels concern for Iruka, despite not knowing the Academy sensei very well. Kakashi can tell that something happened to Iruka during the war that stole the warmth from his eyes. Kakashi knows that on the battlefield, Iruka witnessed something happen that changed him – something that still haunts him.

 

Kakashi knows this, because the ghosts he saw in Iruka’s eyes are the same ones he saw in the mirror for almost two decades after Rin died.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**February**

 

The winter air burns Kakashi nostrils and lungs with each strategic breath. It’s nearly two in the morning, and he is finally within Konoha’s borders after a week-long diplomatic mission. His team – or rather his _bodyguards_ , as he sarcastically retorted to Tsunade when she assigned him this mission – flank him on each side as they run the last short distance between them and the gates of the city.

 

As they approach the main gate, Kakashi briefly glances at each of his teammates and gives them a tight nod, dismissing them. The other two shinobi branch off from the formation, silently taking to the rooftops in opposite directions, most likely heading home to family and loved ones.

 

Kakashi’s apartment is located to the west of the main gate, but as he finally passes through the gate and slows down to a casual stroll, he shifts direction and heads east toward the Konoha Cemetery. At two in the morning, the only family and loved ones that will welcome him are the memories of the fallen inscribed on stone slabs.

 

Konoha is quiet at this time of night. He pays his respects at the Memorial Stone on his way, but it is the middle of February and Kakashi has flowers he wants to place at each individual headstone of Team Minato. He curls his fingers around the small scroll in his pocket where the hydrangea flowers are sealed, making sure it’s still in place, and continues his walk to the cemetery.

 

Konoha’s cemetery is massive, but navigating the seemingly endless rows of headstones is like second nature to Kakashi. He is silent as he makes his ways through the rows, first to Minato-sensei’s grave. He kneels in front of Minato’s headstone, pulls out the scroll and breaks its seal. Three bouquets of hydrangea flowers appear once the puff of smoke clears – a symbol of his everlasting remembrance of his childhood team – and he places one neatly in front of him.

 

There was a time when Kakashi spent hours in front of Minato’s – or Rin’s, or Obito’s – grave. He would speak with the dead, tell them everything that transpired. His survivor’s guilt and nearly overwhelming post-traumatic stress disorder caused him to seek out forgiveness and retribution at the graves of his former teammates – at the graves of those he failed to protect – and it was a vicious cycle of repentance and grief that lasted for nearly two decades.

 

Now, Kakashi bows his head in silent prayer, whispers, “Good to see you, sensei”, and stands up to make his way to Rin’s grave.

 

Kakashi spends a little more time at Rin’s grave. During the events of the Fourth Shinobi World War, Rin is the only one who wasn’t either temporarily revived from the dead or never dead at all. He still told her headstone stories of things transpiring in his life, but he no longer grovels in self-loathing. Tonight, he places the hydrangeas in front of her grave and gives her a brief run-down of his latest mission.

 

With a “I hope you’re doing well on the other side”, he departs her grave and begins his walk to Obito’s grave.

 

Obito’s grave is no longer empty. His headstone had never been more than a marker for an empty casket before the fourth shinobi world war. Obito’s body had not been recovered from the first time he was presumed dead, and now that he was officially dead, Kakashi had made it his utmost priority to return Obito’s body to Konoha and give him a proper, twenty-year-delayed burial.

 

Kakashi is a few steps away from Obito’s grave when he notices he’s not alone in the cemetery. He picks up on the trace of someone else’s chakra – a dark, heavy chakra that feels familiar. In the distance, he spots the other cemetery patron, and the familiar chakra signature finally makes sense.

 

Umino Iruka stands in front of a grave several rows away from Kakashi. He’s dressed in his shinobi uniform, minus most of his gear. Iruka’s head is bowed and his shoulders are slumped, as if there is an invisible weight he’s carrying with him. Kakashi can make out the fresh, massive bouquet of sunflowers resting between Iruka’s feet and the grave he’s standing in front of.

 

Iruka hasn’t noticed him – his chakra is leaking out, as if he’s distracted. Kakashi doesn’t think he was meant to feel this chakra signature, so he purposefully snaps a stray branch in front of him with his sandal, breaking the silence of the cemetery. Immediately, the heavy chakra retreats and Iruka’s back stiffens. After several seconds, Iruka turns around toward the noise, and makes eye contact with Kakashi.

 

Even without the Sharingan, Kakashi can make out the details of Iruka’s face. Lines are beginning to etch themselves around his mouth and eyes, a warning of deep fatigue. His clothes are wrinkled from a long day of wear, and his normally high ponytail is beginning to sag, ready for a wash.

 

Iruka is smiling at Kakashi, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Over the last four months, during their brief encounters, Kakashi couldn’t help but notice that the ghosts that haunt Iruka’s eyes are still as present as ever. Iruka’s smile is a front, something to distract his students and peers away from the voids that used to be the windows to his soul. However, Kakashi has had too much experience with the kind of pain he suspects Iruka is going through, and can read the signs very well.

 

Kakashi slowly shakes his head at Iruka, never breaking eye contact. _You don’t have to force yourself_ , he wants to say, hopes that Iruka gets the message in his body language. This a place to grieve, and Kakashi feels no one should have to hide behind fake smiles when they visit the dead.

 

Iruka’s smile drops, all semblance of warmth fading from his face. He nods once, and Kakashi is glad – Iruka understood him.

 

Iruka turns around and kneels, placing one last offering in front of the grace. He bows his head momentarily, then stands backs up, darting out of the graveyard without another glance in Kakashi’s direction.

 

After Iruka’s departure, Kakashi places the last bouquet of hydrangeas in front of Obito’s headstone. He plucks one of the hydrangea flowers out of the bouquet, muttering a “hope you don’t mind” to Obito before walking over to the grave Iruka was standing in front of.

 

There is no shortage of offerings in front of this grave. Sunflowers, bento, still-smoking incense and a framed picture are placed neatly in front of the headstone. The stone reads “Hanarame Daisuke”, and Kakashi recognizes that name. Hanarame was a tokubetsu jounin in reconnaissance, somewhere around the same age as Kakashi, and died during the fourth world war.

 

Kakashi kneels for the last time that night, placing the single hydrangea in front of the grave. The framed picture shows Iruka and Hanarame smiling goofily at the camera, each with an arm wrapped around the other’s shoulders. He bows his head and says a prayer for Hanarame, then stands up and begins his walk home.

 

 _Umino Iruka_ , he ponders as he walks through the empty streets. The school teacher has been in his thoughts quite often since the end of the war, and tonight has only set his original hypothesis in stone. Kakashi is now positive that Iruka watched Hanarame die during the war, and they must have been very good friends in order for Hanarame’s death to take such a toll on Iruka’s welfare.

 

Kakashi makes a decision to visit Naruto the next day, and has just finished disabling the wards on his home when his hands begin to shake. Kakashi sighs, mentally preparing himself for an even longer night ahead of him before opening the door.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**April**

 

Iruka wakes up from a dreamless sleep, and the first thing he realizes is that he forgot to put the cap back on the bottle of sleeping pills sitting on his nightstand. He doesn’t move for a very long time. Instead, he stares at the glowing red numbers of his clock that tell him there’s still another hour and a half before his alarm is set to go off.

 

Iruka knows he will not be able to fall back to sleep, so he pushes himself off of his stomach and slides until his feet dangle off the bed. His eyes are still heavy, begging him to go back to sleep, but he’s been through this routine for months now and he knows that today will be another long day fueled by only three hours of sleep. He puts the cap back on the sleeping pills before trudging out his room and into the bathroom, where he gets ready for work.

 

At the Academy, Iruka is the only one wandering the halls so early in the morning. He enters his classroom two hours before class is scheduled to start and begins working on his lesson plan for the remainder of the school year.

 

The rest of the day goes by in a haze, and he feels disconnected from the world.

 

Iruka used to love his job. Teaching Konoha’s future generations was his calling, and he was damn good at it, too. His role as an instructor at the Academy led him to Naruto. Ever since he overcame his own prejudices against the jinchuriki of the Nine-Tails, he’s been able to open his heart to countless other students that needed his guidance over the years.

 

Now, standing in front of his class of pre-genin, Iruka feels nothing.

 

The students in front of him bring him no joy. Dragging himself out of bed every day to come to the Academy is almost not worth it anymore, and if he didn’t need the money, he would have stopped getting out of bed a long time ago.

 

Iruka tries to be strong for his students, though. He puts up a front, and smiles and listens to them talk when he assumes they need it. He scolds when necessary, but tries not to be overwhelmingly harsh. He just doesn’t feel anything anymore when he speaks to them, when he teaches them. When their bright eyes look at him with wonder and awe when he shows them a new shuriken-throwing technique, he doesn’t feel any warmth or satisfaction like he used to. When they excitedly ask him questions about what it’s like to be genin, he doesn’t feel happiness at their thirst for knowledge.

 

Instead, Iruka plasters a smile on his face, answers all of their questions, and silently prays that tonight will be the night he can sleep without the threat of nightmares.

 

After class has ended, he immediately heads to the mission desk to cover both an afternoon and evening shift. He does not train anymore, only overloads himself with work and more work until his body is too exhausted to function anymore and he can pass out into a dreamless sleep. Sometimes, he needs the sleeping pills anyway.

 

At the mission desk, he assigns missions and accepts reports with less fervor for promptness and penmanship than before. When he receives looks from guilty jounin handing in messy reports, expecting Iruka to scold them harshly, he just accepts the documents with a half-hearted “Welcome back” and files the report away without another word.

 

Before he realizes it, his shift at the mission desk is over, it’s past midnight, and he’s standing in front of Daisuke’s grave for the hundredth time with a single sunflower, begging for forgiveness – begging for the nightmares to go away.

 

Iruka needs the sleeping pills that night.

 

It’s been six months since the end of the war – since _please Iruka, do it, I’m begging you_ – and his days continue in the same routine of joyless teaching and mindless mission desk assignments. On a Friday when his mission desk shift ends early and he’s about to leave the building to go home, someone grabs his arm. He turns around and meets the eyes of Mitarashi Anko, and she has a look of determination on her face.

 

“You. Me. Some other people. We’re going drinking tonight,” Anko says in her _this is not optional_ voice.

 

Iruka knows he’s been neglecting his friends lately. He hasn’t seen Izumo or Kotetsu in over a month, and it’s been two weeks since he last spoke more than a passing greeting to Anko. Even now, cornered by Anko before he can disappear into the seclusion of his home, his first reaction is to immediately make up an excuse to decline Anko’s invitation. Anko must see the conflictions on his face, because she frowns at him, and it makes him nauseous with guilt. She presses up close to him and lowers her voice.

 

“You’re strung out,” she says bluntly, and Iruka averts his eyes from her gaze. “You’re exhausting yourself because you’re overworking yourself. You haven’t relaxed in months.”

 

“Anko, I just—”

 

“You don’t need to make excuses.” There’s a softness in her voice, a sign of her understanding. Anko suffered throughout the war as well. Before the Academy opened back up, Iruka often spent his days lying next to Anko in her bed, sharing company without words and drawing support from the warmth of another body next to him. Anko has been a dear friend to him, and he feels terrible for avoiding her and everyone else.

 

“I just think you need some time off,” she continues and squeezes his shoulder. “I think if you want to start healing, you need to relieve some stress. And I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

 

He knows Anko means well, but the idea of socializing with a group of people outside of work makes him stomach twist in knots. What if they’re judging him? What if they’ve heard the story of what he did? How can he talk to them like he’s the same Umino Iruka from before the war?

 

How can he face his friends without Daisuke?

 

Iruka is about to decline her offer when he looks at her face. There it is, the disappointment he had hoped to never see again. He sighs, and the guilt consumes him.

 

“Fine, I’ll go,” he agrees reluctantly. Anko’s face lights up.

 

“I’ll swing by your place at eight!” she says excitedly, and disappears out the door before he can change his mind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Anko keeps her promise and bangs heavily on Iruka’s door at precisely eight o’clock. Besides removing his flak jacket and the pouch at his thigh, Iruka hasn’t changed his clothes. Anko runs her eyes over him, and he’s sure she’s about to demand he change. Instead, she shrugs, grabs his arm, and nearly drags him in pure Anko-fashion to the Dancing Kunoichi.

 

For a Friday night, the shinobi bar is crowded, and Iruka tenses up the moment he steps inside. Anko stays true to her word and stays by his side, leading him over to the bar area where they each take up a seat. Anko loudly orders them beers before loudly waving Izumo and Kotetsu over when she spots them in the crowd.

 

Izumo and Kotetsu look happy to see Iruka, and he offers them a tight smile and makes small talk. Before the war, this would have been a casual Friday night where Iruka could unwind from a long work week with his friends. Now, Iruka feels trapped. Despite the smile and conversation, he feels alone.

 

“I need to go visit the little kunoichi’s room, Iruka-chan,” she says, nuzzling her cheek against his, giving the pretense of a drunken-Anko hug. “Will you be okay by yourself for a while?”

 

“Try to hurry if you can, please,” Iruka replies as politely as he can, but he knows that Anko can feel how tense he’s become at the thought of being left alone in this crowded place.

 

“I’ll be back in no time!” Anko gives him a sloppy drunken kiss on the cheek and dashes off in the general direction of the restrooms.

 

Iruka grips his beer tightly, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. If he doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, then he can’t see them judging him. If he doesn’t move, then maybe they won’t notice him. He finishes the rest of his beer and manages to order another from the barkeeper with as little eye contact as possible.

 

As Iruka becomes more inebriated, he realizes how much he likes the haze of the alcohol. It reminds him of the haze of the sleeping pills, and he’s starting to wonder what it would feel like if he took them together when someone occupies the seat next to him. He’s about to welcome Anko back from the restroom, but he’s met by dark gray eyes and a two finger wave instead.

 

“Yo,” Hatake Kakashi greets him before turning to the barkeep and flagging him down for two beers.

 

Iruka doesn’t return the greeting, mostly because Kakashi is focused on procuring the beers from the barkeeper. Iruka looks behind him and realizes that Izumo and Kotetsu are nowhere to be found, and he frowns before turning back to his own beer.

 

This is the perfect time to escape and go home. It wasn’t as terrible of an experience as he originally thought it would be, but he’s now alone in a room full of people he can’t quite look in the eye and the faint buzz from the alcohol isn’t enough to calm his nerves. He’s already planning the apology note he’ll write to Anko and leave on her front door when he gulps down the rest of his beer. Just as he’s about to turn in his seat and sneak out of the bar, another beer is slammed down in front of him.

 

“You come here often, sensei?”

 

Iruka makes eye contact with Kakashi. Kakashi is leaning against the bar, facing Iruka and dangling one of the beers he ordered by its neck. The other beer he ordered is sitting in front of Iruka on the bar. Out of all the people in the bar, Iruka thinks he should be intimidated by Kakashi the most. Kakashi is a war commander, a master of a thousand jutsu, and the next in line for Hokage. Kakashi’s reputation precedes him everywhere he goes. Iruka knows that Kakashi is powerful.

 

Instead, Iruka sees the jounin who doesn’t know how to turn in a mission report on time to save his life. Over the last few months, Iruka has seen Kakashi in the mission room more than ever as Kakashi turns in sloppily written reports from the many diplomatic missions he’s been on lately. Kakashi always seems to end up in Iruka’s line at the mission desk, and has made small talk with him every single time. They’ve even had conversations outside of the mission room when they run into each other in town.

 

Out of all the people in the room, Iruka is intimidated by Kakashi the least.

 

“That sounds like a cheesy pick-up line, Kakashi-san,” Iruka replies after a few brief seconds of deliberating whether he should answer Kakashi or make a break for the door.

 

“Maa, sensei, it was a genuine question,” Kakashi says, and Iruka can tell Kakashi is smiling behind his mask.

 

“Anko dragged me here.” Iruka still hasn’t touched the beer in front of him.

 

“Sounds like it was against your will,” Kakashi says with an air of understanding.

 

“Usually everything you do with Anko is against your will.”

 

Kakashi nods in agreement.

 

“I’m in a similar situation with Tenzou.” Kakashi points off to a section of the bar where Yamato and Anko are chatting together. Iruka frowns. Of course Anko had ulterior motives for going out tonight.

 

“Did Yamato-sensei drag you here too?” Iruka catches the tip of Kakashi’s nose falling behind his mask as Kakashi pulls the mask back up after sipping from his beer. Kakashi nods.

 

“ _I can’t go alone, Kakashi-senpai.”_ Kakashi imitates Yamato in a high pitched voice. “ _I need…what do you call them? A bird man?”_

 

“Did he mean a wingman?” Iruka finds himself laughing abruptly at Kakashi’s terrible impression of Yamato, lifting his mood from before. “And why does he sound like a girl?”

 

“Because I am terrible at impressions,” Kakashi says with a laugh.

 

Iruka begins to feel warm. The laughter mixed with the few beers he has had causes heat to rush to his cheeks, and he is sure his face is red. He feels a little lighter than before, and when Kakashi asks how Naruto has been doing lately, Iruka finally grabs the beer Kakashi set in front of him and takes a sip.

 

They talk about Naruto for a while, and then Yamato and Anko finally make their way over to them. The night continues in conversation that Iruka actually feels like participating in. Iruka finally has the opportunity to introduce himself to Yamato, and he finds that he likes Yamato’s polite demeanor immediately. Why Yamato would gravitate toward Anko – his polar opposite – is beyond Iruka’s comprehension, but he doesn’t judge.

 

A few more rounds of beers and a couple of hours later, Iruka follows the group out of the Dancing Kunoichi into the temperate night air. Iruka is tipsy, but he feels good. He hasn’t felt this light and relaxed in months, and he stumbles a little when he walks. All around, he feels at ease, and when Anko asks Kakashi to walk Iruka home so that she can walk with Yamato, Iruka doesn’t even mind.

 

The crowd of the busy streets outside of the Dancing Kunoichi thin out to just Kakashi and Iruka as they approach the residential district of Konoha. The night air feels great on Iruka’s skin, and it helps him concentrate on walking straight. They walk in companionable silence, and Iruka’s drunken smile does not waver. There is no awkward tension between him and Kakashi, and it’s a such a relief that Iruka nearly believes the last few months were nothing more than a terrible dream.

 

Iruka tries to remember the last time he has had this much fun, and all of the memories include one person.

 

“You’re the one who’s been leaving hydrangeas on Daisuke’s grave, aren’t you?” Iruka is pleased to hear his voice is steady, despite the fact he’s having trouble walking in a straight line.

 

“I meant no disrespect.” Kakashi doesn’t look at him, but his voice is sincere.

 

“I appreciate it,” Iruka replies truthfully. It has been nice to see someone honoring Daisuke’s grave besides himself. “I try to leave fresh sunflowers whenever I can, but it’s nice to see the hydrangeas mixed in. I’m sure he would like them.”

 

“I’m assuming you two were close.”

 

Iruka doesn’t say anything for a few long, silent moments. It’s perfectly reasonable that Kakashi doesn’t know the whole story – that Kakashi isn’t feigning ignorance. Out of the hundreds of shinobi that perished during the war, Iruka shouldn’t expect everyone to suddenly know every detail about his or Daisuke’s lives. That doesn’t make it any easier to talk about.

 

“We were lovers,” Iruka says softly.

 

“I see.” There is no disapproval in Kakashi’s voice, and Iruka is glad. Kakashi scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “This probably isn’t the best time for me to be prying.”

 

“It’s okay,” Iruka says. “I’m the one who brought it up. I wanted to thank you.”

 

“It’s the least I can do.”

 

They reach Iruka’s home and Kakashi walks him to the door. Iruka fumbled with the chakra wards on his home, and he hears a few huffs of quiet laughter behind him. Once his wards are down, he turns around and glares at Kakashi, but he there is no anger in his gaze.

 

“Maa, sensei, do you need me to assist you in getting through the door?” Kakashi teases him.

 

“I am perfectly capable of entering my own home, Kakashi-san,” Iruka replies matter-of-factly, but there is a playfulness in his tone.

 

“Then I believe this is goodnight, Iruka-sensei.”

 

The moon bathes Kakashi in a soft white glow, accenting his silhouette but darkening his eyes. Kakashi’s gaze feels intense, and Iruka wonders if the warm feeling in his stomach is still a result of the alcohol or something else entirely different. The evening hadn’t become enjoyable until Kakashi had arrived, and Iruka doesn’t want to lose his company so soon. He attributes the warmth and lightness he felt throughout the evening to Kakashi’s presence, and he’s thinking of inviting Kakashi inside when everything comes crashing down.

 

* * *

 

 

 

_The sound of the battlefield is thunderous, but it’s nothing but white noise compared to the labored breathing of the man in Iruka’s arms. His breaths are wet with the blood pooling in his lungs and spilling from his mouth, and his hands grasp weakly at Iruka’s sides._

_“I…I don’t want…”_

_Iruka’s throat and chest are in knots, and he’s finding it harder to breathe with each passing second. He supports the man with one bloodstained hand, and cups the man’s face with the other one, smearing blood across his cheek._

_“Daisuke, I can’t…I can’t…”_

_Daisuke struggles to bring one finger up to Iruka’s lips, silencing him. Iruka watches as the last bit of light leaves Daisuke’s eyes, and Daisuke is smiling as he utters his last words._

_“Thank you.”_

* * *

 

 

 

“Iruka-sensei!”

 

Iruka is breathing heavily – no, he’s sobbing. When did he start sobbing?

 

“Iruka-sensei, focus on my voice. Can you hear me?”

 

Daisuke died in his arms. Daisuke died because of him. Daisuke is dead, he’s dead, he’s…

 

“You can’t blame yourself for Daisuke’s death.”

 

Iruka hadn’t realized he was talking out loud. Everything around him comes into focus, and he’s standing with his back against his doorway in the middle of the night with Hatake Kakashi’s hands on his shoulders, not on a battlefield with his dead lover in his arms. His heart is racing and his hands are shaking. Kakashi is looking at him with concern in his eyes, and Iruka’s stomach knots in dread.

 

“I need to go.”

 

Iruka backs away from Kakashi’s grasp, and Kakashi does not follow him. Kakashi doesn’t say a word as Iruka fumbles to open the door in his distressed state. Iruka practically slams the door behind him, locking it and warding it as quickly as possible. Iruka feels no more warmth, no haze of the alcohol – his breath comes in gasps, his face is wet with tears, and his stomach churns sickeningly.

 

“ _Daisuke.”_ Iruka moans in grief. He only manages a few steps away from the door before he collapses under the weight of the memory of Daisuke’s death, burying his face in the carpet to muffle his lament.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Anko picks him up off the floor early the next morning and helps him to his bed. He follows her without protest, letting her pull off his shoes and pants before covering him up with the duvet. She crawls into the bed next to him and lets him rest his head on her chest while she strokes his hair.

 

“Maybe you should make an appointment with psych.”

 

Iruka doesn’t reply.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**The Monday After**

 

Iruka is sitting quietly in his kitchen at five in the morning, sipping hot tea and reading a book about chakra seals when there is a knock on his front door. Surprised at having such an early visitor, he lowers his chakra wards and opens the door.

 

“Good morning, Iruka-sensei.”

 

Kakashi stands on his porch, dressed in the standard issue Konoha shinobi uniform without the flak jacket. It’s probably the most casually dressed Iruka has ever seen him.

 

“Hello, Kakashi-san,” Iruka replies quietly. Kakashi is the last person Iruka would like to see right now, and it makes him tense. “May I help you?”

 

“I was wondering if you’d like to go on a morning run with me.” Kakashi’s voice is pleasant and casual, as if he had never witnessed Iruka completely break down in front of him three nights ago.

 

“A run?” Iruka is not sure he heard Kakashi correctly. Did he really just ask him to go for a run?

 

“That’s right.” Iruka can tell Kakashi is smiling through his mask. “It feels great outside, and I decided I wanted a running partner this morning. You in?”

 

Iruka is confused and apprehensive. Being in Kakashi’s presence makes him uneasy. Kakashi has seen him in an extreme moment of weakness. The guilt of even thinking of spending the night with Kakashi had brought memories of Daisuke’s death crushing down on him, and now the same man who’d been a trigger for his panic attack was standing on his front doorstep, asking him to go exercise.

 

“Not today, Kakashi-san. I need to prepare my lessons for class.” A lie – they’ve been finished for the year for weeks now.

 

“Maybe next time,” Kakashi says, and Iruka can tell he is still smiling. “See you later.”

 

Kakashi jogs off from Iruka’s doorstep and to the road with a casual wave goodbye, and Iruka shuts his door once he’s out of sight. Iruka leans against the door, frowning. What the hell was that about?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Every morning for the rest of the week, Kakashi knocks on Iruka’s door at precisely five in the morning and asks Iruka if he would like to join him for a morning run. Iruka is already awake and dressed for the day when Kakashi arrives, and he answers the door each time without meeting Kakashi’s eyes. The scene always plays out like clockwork.

 

“Good morning, Iruka-sensei. Would you like to join me for a morning run?”

 

“Not today, Kakashi-san.”

 

“That’s too bad. Maybe next time.”

 

Iruka is confused at Kakashi’s persistence. If anything, Iruka would have expected Kakashi to avoid him like the plague after witnessing Iruka’s breakdown. Prior to that night at the Dancing Kunoichi, they hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in each other’s company outside of missions, but now Kakashi kept politely requesting Iruka’s presence every morning as if they were good friends.

 

“Kaka-sensei has always been weird,” Naruto says one evening around the last gulp of his third bowl of ramen. Naruto signals Teuchi for another bowl as Iruka picks at the noodles in his own bowl with his chopsticks. “Maybe he’s getting old and lonely.”

 

“That’s not a nice thing to say, Naruto,” Iruka chides him softly.

 

“I can’t help it if Kaka-sensei is crazy!” Naruto exclaims in full Naruto-fashion. “Did I tell you about the time back when he showed up to training three hours late wearing a pair of _shuriken-printed pajamas_?”

 

“Yes, you have,” Iruka says with a small laugh, picturing the scene.

 

“I think he got hit in the head too many times as a baby,” Naruto says, looking on excitedly as Ayame places a steaming hot bowl of ramen in front of him. “But he’s a good guy, I’m sure he just wants someone to go running with him, that’s all. Maybe he’s tired of Gai-sensei forcing him to run three hundred laps around Konoha every time.”

 

“Perhaps,” Iruka says, watching Naruto dig in happily. Iruka is relaxed, sitting at Ichiraku Ramen with the boy he considers like a son to him. It’s peaceful, and maybe Naruto’s words have merit to them. Could Kakashi really be looking for something so simple?

 

“You should take him up on his offer though, Iruka-sensei,” Naruto says with a mouthful of ramen, pointing at Iruka with his chopsticks. “You’re starting to get flabby.”

 

“Naruto!” Iruka promptly thwacks Naruto across the head, but Naruto laughs it off before calming down and looking at Iruka with a serious expression.

 

“How have you been lately?” Naruto asks quietly, keeping the conversation at a level only the two of them can hear.

 

“I’m fine,” Iruka lies softly. “Don’t worry about me.”

 

“I’ll always worry about you.” The concern in Naruto’s eyes makes Iruka’s heart clench. “You’re important to me, and I don’t want you to suffer.”

 

“I’m okay, Naruto.” Iruka smiles at Naruto as sincerely as he can. “I’m…coping.”

 

“I’m always here if you need to talk.”

 

“I know.”

 

Naruto knows that’s the end of the conversation and goes back to slurping his bowl. Iruka ends up taking the rest of his ramen home with him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Two Saturdays after Kakashi started showing up at Iruka’s door every morning, Iruka is prepared. He opens his front door precisely three seconds before five am and meets Kakashi’s stony gray eyes. Kakashi is not smiling today. He has his hands in his pockets and is looking at Iruka expectantly.

 

“What do you want from me?” Iruka asks firmly.

 

“I want you to go on a run with me,” Kakashi replies simply. Iruka frowns.

 

“Kakashi-san…”

 

“Yes, Iruka-sensei?”

 

“ _What do you want from me_?”

 

“I want you to come outside and take a breath of fresh air.”

 

Iruka’s eyes widen and Kakashi continues.

 

“I want you to come with me and enjoy some companionable silence. I want you to feel the rush of endorphins after pushing yourself to a physical limit.”

 

Iruka hesitates, stricken speechless by Kakashi’s words. Was this because of his breakdown? Iruka always knew he’d given something away to Kakashi that night at the cemetery, but Kakashi had never approached him about it until now. It’s all a little too much, and Iruka is about to reject Kakashi for the umpteenth time when Kakashi speaks again.

 

“I want you to go for a run with me, Iruka-sensei, because running always helped me – if only for a little bit – forget about the ghosts that haunted every moment of my life for almost twenty years.”

 

“I…” Iruka doesn’t know what to say. The sincerity in Kakashi’s eyes is something he has never seen before, and somewhere deep down, Iruka suspects that Kakashi can relate to him on some level.

 

“You can still say no. If you say no this time, I won’t come back.”

 

Iruka believes him.

 

“Okay.” Iruka’s answer is soft and a bit unsure. “I’ll join you.”

 

The softness around Kakashi’s eyes as he smiles behind his mask makes Iruka think he’s made the right decision.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _I’ve made a terrible mistake_ , Iruka thinks as he bends over and places his hands on his knees, taking in giant gulps of air to quell the burning in his lungs. Sweat drips from Iruka’s hairline down his face and neck. They had managed to run ten kilometers in a little less than an hour without the aid of jutsu, and Iruka is feeling the effects of not keeping up with his training. His eyes are watery, his lungs are burning, and his heart is going to beat itself out of his chest.

 

Next to Iruka, Kakashi stands with his hands casually in his pockets, without so much as a single bead of sweat gracing his brow. Kakashi watches Iruka hack and gasp for air as if he’s watching paint dry.

 

“Ne, stand up and put your arms over your head so you can breathe properly.”

 

“Shut up you horrible, horrible man,” Iruka growls between breaths, but there is no real anger in his words. He obeys anyway and stands straight up, interlacing is fingers on top of his head. Iruka knows this is the proper way to catch his breath, but keeling over seemed so much easier after barely managing to trail behind Kakashi’s pace for almost an hour.

 

“You wound me, sensei,” Kakashi says deadpan with a hand over his heart.

 

“I’m the one dying over here!”

 

“But does it feel good?”

 

It does. The blood pumping through Iruka’s veins isn’t the result of a nightmare or a panic attack. It’s because of a conscious choice Iruka made, and the endorphins make Iruka feel light and full of energy. He’s sweating and breathing hard but it’s because he pushed his body to a limit he hasn’t approached in a long time, and Iruka had almost forgotten what it was like to associate positive feelings with physical exertion.

 

“Yeah.” Iruka nods, his breath slowly coming back to normal. “It does.”

 

“Good.” Kakashi takes a few extra seconds to watch Iruka, as if he’s assessing whether Iruka is telling the truth. Kakashi then grins behind his mask. “See you tomorrow, Iruka-sensei.”

 

Kakashi leaves with a casual wave before Iruka can even think about protesting.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**May**

Kakashi notices a change in Iruka about a month after they start their morning runs.

 

At first, Iruka struggles to keep up with Kakashi as they run. He knew that was because Iruka hadn’t been training since the end of the war. After a few weeks, Iruka’s stamina begins to return and he starts running side-by-side with Kakashi for the entire ten kilometers without gasping like he’s about to keel over and die.

 

Iruka remains mostly silent during their morning runs, and Kakashi doesn’t push for conversation. Their silence is not uncomfortable. However, one mid-May morning, Iruka suddenly tells him a story about his recent visit with Naruto in the middle of their run. From that day on, they keep up friendly chatter for most of their runs, and Kakashi thinks it’s an improvement.

 

Kakashi rarely runs into Iruka outside of their morning runs. He shows up at Iruka’s door every morning at five o’clock sharp, but only when he isn’t out on a mission. Kakashi can tell that Tsunade is punishing him for not replacing her as Hokage yet by sending him out on one diplomatic mission after another, and it keeps him busy. The only other time he manages to see Iruka is at the mission desk.

 

Iruka’s reserved demeanor at the mission desk hasn’t changed. Kakashi isn’t foolish enough to believe getting Iruka physically active again would relight the fire in his eyes. Sometimes, Iruka doesn’t even answer the door in the morning. On those days, Kakashi knows that Iruka is awake – he can feel Iruka’s chakra somewhere in the house, aware but withdrawn. On those days, Kakashi doesn’t pry, but he still thinks he’s making progress, even if it is just by getting Iruka chattier during their runs.

 

They never speak of the day Iruka broke down. In fact, they never speak of Hanarame Daisuke. Kakashi feels like he can relate to Iruka – he watched Obito supposedly die during the third war, and it haunted him for years – but he knows that Iruka is suffering in a different way. Kakashi hasn’t lost someone he loved the way Iruka loved Daisuke, but Kakashi has had a heavy feeling in his gut ever since he saw Iruka’s empty eyes all those months ago.

 

Something about the world just doesn’t feel right when the fire is missing from Umino Iruka’s eyes.

 

On a Sunday morning, Iruka slows to a stop in the middle of their run. Kakashi stops and faces him, but Iruka is gazing at the training fields they were passing by.

 

“Kakashi-san, why don’t we spar this morning?”

 

“Hm, are you sure you want to spar with _me_ , Iruka-sensei?”

 

“Y-yes,” Iruka stammers, finally looking at Kakashi. “Without chakra, of course. And you have to go easy on me.”

 

Kakashi laughs softly.

 

“Good idea, sensei. Let’s spar.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Iruka’s face is buried in the dirt and his arm is twisted behind his back. Kakashi has a knee on each of Iruka’s side, caging him in.

 

“I said _go easy_ on me,” Iruka mutters into the dirt.

 

“But sensei, I barely put up a fight!” Kakashi teases Iruka, but helps him up from the ground. Iruka brushes dirt and grass off of his clothes.

 

“Well, I obviously did poorly, even without chakra.” Iruka jaw clenches, but his tone becomes firm. “That just means we have to spar again every morning until I can best you in a match.”

 

Kakashi is grinning behind his mask.

 

“You have yourself a deal, sensei.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**June**

 

“I’m going to take missions this summer.”

 

Anko chews the dango in her mouth a little slower, as if she’s contemplating Iruka’s words.

 

“You think you’re ready?” she asks after a few seconds of silence.

 

“I take missions every summer,” Iruka replies softly. “They’re going to expect me to take some this summer too.”

 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

 

Iruka pretends to organize the stack of paperwork in front of him. His classroom is empty, save for them two. He thinks of the training he’s done with Kakashi over the last month, and finally nods.

 

“Yes, I’m ready.”

 

Anko grins.

 

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**August**

 

After the Academy students are released for summer break, Iruka picks up C-rank and B-rank missions whenever he can. Without the promise of working at the Academy six days a week, he needs something to keep him busy. Most of the missions he takes are escort types, and he rarely finds himself in combat. He picks up one mission after another while continuing to meet with Kakashi several times a week to train.

 

On the morning of a C-rank mission he was assigned with Kakashi as its captain, Iruka wakes up and realizes he hasn’t taken a sleeping pill in several weeks. He usually doesn’t sleep during a mission, but he hasn’t found much difficulty in falling asleep when he gets home. He thinks about it all the way until he meets Kakashi and Sakura at the main gate for a mission briefing.

 

“It’s lovely to see you again, Iruka-sensei!” Sakura gives Iruka a hug and he pats her on the back. He hasn’t spent time with Sakura in ages, and he’s glad to have her on the mission.

 

“Yes, Iruka-sensei, you’re quite the lovely sight,” Kakashi says teasingly. Iruka raises an eyebrow at him, obviously unamused.

 

“I believe we’re here for a mission briefing, aren’t we, Kakashi-taichou,” Iruka responds. It’s a statement, not a question.

 

“So eager,” Kakashi sighs, but pulls the mission scroll out of his flak jacket anyway. “Our mission is to scout an area of forest that is about a day’s run from here in order to confirm if there is a hideout for surviving Madara followers. Our mission is reconnaissance only, not to engage the enemy if we confirm there is indeed a hideout. We will pinpoint its exact location and gather intel on the enemy. Our intel will be given to a larger team who will eradicate the hideout once it has been confirmed, so we must be precise and most of all, we must stay hidden. The mission should take three days at most. Do you both understand the objective?”

 

Iruka and Sakura nod their affirmative, and the team departs from Konoha.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Twenty kilometers out from their destination, the sun is almost set and the team sets up camp for the night. As they each eat one of their rations for dinner in front of a smokeless fire, Sakura tells Iruka all about the training she’s undergoing to become a jounin medical-nin. Iruka listens attentively, finding himself genuinely interested in what she’s been doing since the end of the war. He knows he has been out of touch with a lot of people, and feels slightly guilty for not checking up on Sakura at least once.

 

Kakashi remains mostly silent, but Iruka feels Kakashi’s eyes on him during his conversation with Sakura. After dinner, Kakashi performs a perimeter check and Sakura unpacks her bed roll. When Kakashi returns, Sakura is asleep and Iruka is gazing into the burning embers of the fire, his back against a log.

 

“All clear,” Kakashi murmurs as he sits down next to Iruka so that their thighs are practically touching. “You should get some rest.”

 

“I can’t,” Iruka replies softly, mindful of the sleeping kunoichi close by. “I haven’t been able to sleep on missions.”

 

“I see.”

 

Kakashi says no more, and the silence draws out, making Iruka uncomfortable. He expected to be scolded and Kakashi’s silence is unnerving.

 

“I make it a point not take a mission more than three days long,” Iruka says after a long while. “I sleep fine when I get home, but outside of that, I…”

 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Kakashi doesn’t look at Iruka, and Iruka is thankful for it. They both keep their eyes on the fire. “If I didn’t find you a capable shinobi, I would not have accepted you on my team. A couple of days without sleep is fine for a shinobi. It shouldn’t affect this mission in the slightest.”

 

Iruka sighs softly in relief, stealing a glance of Kakashi’s profile. Kakashi is probably the most capable shinobi and leader in Konoha, and his approval eases Iruka’s worry. He knew that his lack of sleep wouldn’t get past Kakashi’s detection, which is why he told him outright instead of trying to hide it. However, something that Iruka has been wondering for months now begins to bother him.

 

“Kakashi-san, may I ask you a question?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“Why aren’t you Hokage yet?”

 

Kakashi takes a few extra seconds to answer. “Maa, sensei, you sound like Tsunade.”

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry…”

 

Kakashi turns slightly so that their thighs really are touching and he is facing Iruka. Kakashi taps the corner of his left eye a few times, and Iruka watches closely.

 

“Ever since I lost the Sharingan, I haven’t been able to use Raikiri.”

 

Kakashi lets his hand fall to his lap, and Iruka’s eyes follow it. Kakashi does not turn away, and continues talking softly.

 

“I haven’t been in combat since the end of the war, either. I had the Sharingan for more than half of my life, and without it, I’m having some trouble adjusting. As of right now, I don’t feel like I can protect Konoha the way a Hokage should, so I’ve asked Tsunade to wait patiently while I work on it.”

 

Iruka’s eyebrows lift in surprise. He never would had guessed that someone of Kakashi’s caliber could experience self-doubt. After everything that Kakashi has accomplished in his life, Iruka expected him to be brimming with self-esteem. Now, he is reminded that in the end, Kakashi is only human, just like him.

 

“Well, in my opinion, you would make a great Hokage.” Iruka finds himself smiling at Kakashi, and Kakashi returns the smile from behind his mask.

 

“Thank you, sensei. After all these years, I finally have your approval.”

 

“What are you – are you talking about _chunin exams_? That was so long ago!”

 

“And I’ve spent every single waking moment since that day trying to earn your approval. Every. Single. Moment.”

 

Iruka can’t stop himself from laughing quietly at Kakashi’s mock seriousness, and when he gets himself under control, he notices Kakashi is looking at him pensively.

 

“What is it, Kakashi-san?”

 

“You should laugh more.”

 

Iruka doesn’t say anything.

 

“I think everyone in the village misses your laugh,” Kakashi says quietly before finally turning back to the fire, moving his thigh away from Iruka’s thigh. Iruka feels colder now, and looks to the fire as well.

 

“I’m trying,” Iruka whispers, mostly to himself. “I’m trying.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning, the team covers the remaining twenty kilometers to their destination in less than an hour, sticking to the treetops to keep their approach hidden. Kakashi signals for them to hold their position as he scouts ahead, returning a few minutes later and confirming there is a heavily warded clearing surrounding a cave. He gives the order for Sakura and Iruka to scout the areas within a one kilometer diameter east and west of the cave for enemy nin. They are not to engage the enemy, and they are to avoid traps instead of disabling them as to not give away their presence. Kakashi will try to get confirmation of enemy presence near or inside the cave.

 

Iruka takes to the treetops in his respective direction, moving quickly but stealthily, sticking to the trunks of the trees for cover. He scans the ground and tree tops thoroughly, avoiding any traps with ease. If the enemy is still around, he notes that their traps are elementary at best.

 

An hour passes and Iruka has finished scouting the area he was assigned without any trace of enemy nin. He’s about to turn back with the intent of doing another quick scan of the area on the way when a wave of uneasiness washes over him. The hair on Iruka’s arms and the back of his neck stands on end, and the air around him begins to crackle.

 

Iruka spins around toward the direction of the cave at the exact same time a blinding purple flash of light shoots down from the sky, striking the general area of the cave. Iruka has to shield his eyes, and seconds later, a thunderous boom nearly pushes him off of the tree branch he’s standing on. He manages to brace himself against the tree trunk as the brightness of the oddly purple light dims, only for another flash to emanate from the area followed by another boom.

 

It takes Iruka a few seconds to realize that what he’s witnessing is a barrage of lightning strikes.

 

 _Kakashi_.

 

Iruka flies through the tree tops toward the cave, making sure not to look directly at the multiple flashes of lightning from the area. The only reasonable explanation is that Kakashi has been discovered, and if Kakashi had to resort to such a massive attack as the one Iruka just witnessed, then Kakashi must need help.

 

Iruka is solely focused on his goal of arriving at the cave when he catches the distinct sound of bells. He doesn’t stop moving forward, hoping that if he has an enemy on his tail, they will follow him to Kakashi’s position so they can fight together. Thunder continues to boom in the distance from the continuous bombardment of lightning strikes, and Iruka fears the forest will catch fire, making his approach to Kakashi more difficult.

 

Just as Iruka catches another ring of bells, he feels the sharp sting of a kunai pierce through his flak jacket and stab through his shoulder. He cries out in pain and loses his footing, falling to the forest ground below. He manages to land on his good shoulder, hitting the ground with a loud thud and a groan.

 

Iruka is pulling the kunai out of his shoulder with gritted teeth when a pair of boots make their way into his line of sight _Enemy_ , Iruka thinks alarmingly, and tries to push himself away as quickly as he can. He doesn’t make it very far when the enemy kicks Iruka’s hand away from the kunai still embedded in his shoulder, then slams their foot into Iruka’s chest, forcing him onto his back. The force knocks the wind out of Iruka’s lungs, and he’s gasping for air when the boot collides with the kunai in his shoulder, sinking it deeper into his skin.

 

Iruka cries out in agony. He can’t breathe and he’s positive the kunai has shattered his clavicle. He hears someone snort above him, and he manages to focus through the pain on the person’s face.

 

For a split-second, there is no pain. There is no forest around him, there is no wild beating of his heart, there is no mission. There is only a face leering down at him, smeared in blood, teeth bared, eyes gleaming with malice. There is only the gaping wound in the body’s stomach, the bloodstained Konoha shinobi uniform, the ragged breathing of a dying man.

 

However, everything comes rushing back as Iruka whispers the enemy’s name.

 

“ _Daisuke…_ ”

 

Daisuke grins maniacally at him.

 

“Hello, Iruka-kun. Time to repay you for what you’ve done to me.”

 

Iruka doesn’t move. The Daisuke that is standing above him is the Daisuke who died on the battlefield ten months ago. This Daisuke has a fatal wound to his stomach and the blood from Iruka’s hands stained on his face, and breathes in the same wet, ragged breaths that Daisuke breathed right before he died in Iruka’s arms. This Daisuke is dead – _should be dead_ – but he’s not, and the agonizing pain from the kunai in his shoulder means this is real, _it has to be real_.

 

“Daisuke, I’m…I’m so sorry!” Iruka is a mess, practically sobbing beneath Daisuke’s hungry gaze.

 

“I know you are, Iruka-kun,” Daisuke croons. The malice in his eyes betrays his voice. “You know how you can make it up to me?”

 

“H-how?” Iruka would do anything. _Anything_.

 

Daisuke’s grin grows larger as he pulls another kunai from his flak jacket.

 

“Die.”

 

In the distance, Iruka hears someone calls his name. The last thing Iruka sees is the bloodlust in Daisuke’s eyes before he hurls the kunai into Iruka’s gut.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Two Days Later**

 

Iruka opens his eyes, and then immediately closes them with a wince.

 

The room he’s in is pure white, and the light streaming through the windows makes it too bright for Iruka’s eyes to handle. With his eyes closed, Iruka hears the sound of beeping next to him. He flexes his hands, and feels something strapped to his finger. He also feels the familiar sensation of a needle stuck in the back of his hand.

 

So, he’s in the hospital.

 

Iruka opens his eyes little by little, letting them adjust to the light. After a few moments, he has them fully open and stares at the ceiling, unmoving.

 

He’s not dead.

 

Iruka finds it hard to think coherently, only remembering things like the brightest flash of lightning he’s ever seen and the agony of a kunai buried in his stomach. It takes long, drawn-out minutes before Daisuke’s maniacal grin filters through the haze of his thoughts.

 

_Daisuke…_

 

Iruka begins to push himself up, feeling sluggish. Sharp pain shoots through his abdomen and shoulder, followed by a rush of nausea. He winces, closing his eyes just as the door to his room opens.

 

“You probably shouldn’t be doing that yet.”

 

Bandaged hands gently guide Iruka back down to the bed.

 

“I want…” Iruka rasps, and swallows roughly to clear his throat. “I want to sit up.”

 

“Well, the great thing about hospitals is that the beds do that for you,” the familiar voice next to him says. There’s a heavy thump on the desk next to his bed, and after a quick moment of rustling by his side, the bed begins to hum noisily as it lifts him into a sitting position. Once the bed stops, Iruka opens his eyes to see Kakashi sitting in the chair next to his bed.

 

“Yo.” Kakashi waves once, his hand wrapped in white gauze.

 

“Kakashi-san…” Iruka’s throat is dry, making it hard to talk. Kakashi notices and pours Iruka a glass of water from the pitcher next to Iruka’s bed. He holds the glass to Iruka’s lips and let him take a few sips. Iruka sighs in relief.

 

“Those painkillers they have you on are also a killer for your throat,” Kakashi comments, setting the water down and sitting back in his chair. “Besides that, how are you feeling?”

 

“Like I should be dead,” Iruka mutters.

 

“If everything had gone according to the enemy’s plan, we’d all be dead.”

 

Iruka frowns.

 

“It was an ambush,” Kakashi continues casually, watching him. Iruka has a hard time focusing, so he closes his eyes again. “They knew we were coming. They were the ones who fed the rumor mill about their location, hoping to draw in shinobi from the hidden villages and attack all that showed up. Their traps were poorly made on purpose to give the front that they were mediocre shinobi, when in reality there were nearly two dozen of them hiding in that cave, just waiting to be found.”

 

“That lightning…was that you?”

 

“…yes.”

 

“It was so bright…” Iruka swallows. “I could feel its power from a kilometer away.”

 

“Maa, it wasn’t supposed to be that big,” Kakashi murmurs sheepishly. “I think I got a little carried away.”

 

“Your hands?” Iruka opens his eyes, meeting Kakashi’s gaze.

 

“Just a little chakra burn. Should be good as new in a couple of days.”

 

“And Sakura?”

 

“Came through without a scratch.”

 

Iruka bites down on his lip, and he has to steel himself to ask the next question.

 

“What happened to Daisuke?”

 

Kakashi’s brows furrow together and he looks away, obviously thinking about how to answer that question. There’s a sinking feeling in Iruka’s stomach, like something has gone terribly wrong, when Kakashi finally meets Iruka’s eyes again.

 

“Daisuke was never there,” Kakashi says softly. “You were put under a sound-triggered genjutsu by an enemy nin who had been tracking you. The wounds you suffered to your shoulder and stomach were at the hands of a Madara follower.”

 

Of course. There was no way Daisuke could possibly be alive. Iruka watched as they buried his corpse after the war. Iruka is the reason he’s dead in the first place.

 

“How am I still alive?” Iruka mutters.

 

“I found you. Right before the enemy could finish you off, I found you under the genjutsu, begging for Daisuke’s forgiveness even as a kunai was buried in your gut. I took care of him and managed to find Sakura in time to seal you shut before you could bleed out.”

 

“I see.” Iruka takes a deep breath. “They turned my worst memory against me and had me practically beg for death.”

 

“Is that how you think Daisuke would forgive you?” Kakashi asks suddenly, his voice deep with something Iruka doesn’t immediately recognize. Was it anger? “Do you think you deserve to die?”

 

“Kakashi-san, I…” Iruka is stunned in speechless at the change in Kakashi’s voice.

 

“If Daisuke truly loved you, he wouldn’t want to drag you down to die with him. You can’t blame yourself for his death, Iruka.”

 

“You don’t get it.” Iruka’s voice is barely above a whisper. He looks down at his hands, clenching them into fists so hard that his knuckles turn white. “You don’t know…”

 

Kakashi reaches over and places a bandaged hand over Iruka’s fists. Iruka relaxes his hands, but he can’t stop them from shaking.

 

“You don’t get it, Kakashi,” Iruka says again, and when he looks at Kakashi again, Kakashi is stricken by the pure agony in his eyes. “I can blame myself for his death because _I killed him_. I killed Daisuke with my own hands. I had… I had his blood all over my hands.”

 

Iruka can see the look of surprise in Kakashi’s eyes before he flings Kakashi’s hand off of his own, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes in an effort to stem the tears. He doesn’t want to talk about this. He doesn’t want Kakashi to know. But he can’t stop, not when it all begins to boil over like this, and his voice trembles as he talks.

 

“My division was attacked by the White Zetsu clones. They were relentless, and we had a hard time keeping them off. I couldn’t produce enough traps or seals to keep them all away, and one of them managed to infiltrate our squadron and attack Daisuke.

 

“It took over his body. It was disgusting, draping him in its ugly white body. It looked like it was melting all over Daisuke from behind, keeping his face and front part of his body visible. It didn’t take over his mind though, just his body. It began to use Daisuke’s body to attack the rest of our squadron. He killed three shinobi before coming after me.”

 

Iruka swallows thickly. He knows Kakashi is listening, but he can’t keep himself under control. The only person he’s ever told this story to was Anko, and he only talked about it once. Ever since then, he kept it bottled away, letting it build up deep inside until he broke down in front of Kakashi that night. Just like that night, everything is spilling out whether he wants it to or not.

 

“He begged me. With that white thing using his body to attack me, he begged me to kill him. He didn’t want to kill any more of his comrades. He didn’t want to kill _me_. He begged and screamed as I fought him off, but the White Zetsu clone used his body to attack me without mercy, and I couldn’t hold out for much longer. Before he could gut me, I took advantage of an opening and gutted him first.”

 

The room is silent for long moments, save for Iruka’s ragged breathing. Iruka wipes the stray tears from his eyes with the heels of his palms, letting his hands fall into lap. He stares at them, sniffing loudly.

 

“That thing left his body when it realized Daisuke was dying,” Iruka breaks the silence, his voice thick with grief. “The rest of the squadron managed to seal it up so it wouldn’t get anyone else. I caught Daisuke before he could collapse the floor, and the blood from his wound spilled all over my hands. He tried to grab hold of me, but he was too weak. I was a wreck; I didn’t know what to do. And all he did was smile at me and he…he _thanked me_ , Kakashi, he thanked me for killing him and died in my arms before I could say goodbye.”

 

Iruka does his best to hold back his emotions. He must look pitiful, breaking down in front of Kakashi for the second time. His gut churns sickeningly, his body aches awfully, and he wants to disappear from the room. He doesn’t hear anything but his constant sniffing as the tears stream down his face. His only consolation is that he isn’t sobbing incoherently like he did the first time in Kakashi’s presence.

 

Iruka hears Kakashi shuffle in the chair he’s sitting in. _He’s leaving_ , Iruka thinks, relieved and terrified at the same time. But he doesn’t hear footsteps, only the deep breath Kakashi takes before speaking.

 

“When I was younger, I had a nickname.” Kakashi’s voice is steady and oddly reassuring. Iruka doesn’t look at him. “It was known all around Konoha, and even in other lands. They called me Friend-Killer Kakashi.”

 

Iruka snaps his gaze to Kakashi in shock. Kakashi is still sitting back against his chair, his elbows on the arm rests and his fingers steepled in front of him, watching Iruka without falter.

 

“I got that nickname for a reason. Everyone knows that Obito was a part of Team Minato, and when he supposedly died the first time, it changed me. After my father died, I held little regard for teamwork or friendship. Obito’s death and the gift of the Sharingan helped me realize that without teamwork or friendship, I would never become the shinobi I truly wanted to be. His dying wish was for me to protect my other teammate, Rin. After that, I held the friendship I had with Rin very dearly and close to my heart.

 

“Eventually, Rin was captured by Kirigakure, and it was my mission to rescue to her. I succeeded in saving her, but as we were coming back to Konoha, she revealed to me that Kiri sealed the Three-Tails inside of her with hopes of her unleashing it upon Konoha.”

 

“Kakashi….”

 

“She begged me to kill her,” Kakashi continues. “She begged, and I refused. I didn’t want to break my promise to Obito or lose another friend. But when the Kiri-nin caught up with us and tried to take her back, Rin purposely stepped in front of one of my attacks, and it killed her. I blacked out from the shock.”

 

“I didn’t…I didn’t know,” Iruka whispers.

 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Kakashi replies, leaning forward in his chair. “But what you probably know is that I was known for being cold, ruthless, and a loner. And it’s true. Rin’s death haunted me for nearly two decades. I avoided friends and acquaintances. I took mission after mission, no matter what it was, to keep me busy. I couldn’t sleep. I drank too much. I sat in front of Rin’s grave and Obito’s grave every night and silently begged for them to forgive me. When Minato-sensei died, I wanted to die too.”

 

Iruka doesn’t speak, too shocked to do much of anything. The last thing he expected was to have Kakashi open up something Iruka suspects is deeply intimate. Why was he telling Iruka this?

 

“I don’t know exactly what you’re going through because I haven’t lost anyone I loved romantically the way you did. But when I saw you for the first time after the war, I knew something had happened that I could relate to. You had the same dead look in your eyes that I saw the in the mirror for almost twenty years, and it bothered me. I don’t want anyone to suffer the way I did because I was too engulfed in self-loathing to realize I had everything I needed to overcome my grief around me.

 

“I think if I hadn’t taken on Team Seven, I would still be wallowing in my own misery to this day. Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke set me on a path of recovery long before I even knew what hit me. Their friendship made me realize I had friends of my own who cared about me, no matter what happened in my past. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t until very recently that I began to challenge my own personal boundaries, but after all that happened during the war, I was able to forgive myself for what happened to Obito and Rin. I’m not saying that what worked for me will definitely work for you, but I don’t think I can watch you walk down the same path I did. Not when you have Naruto to look after and pre-genin to worry too much about and friends like Anko who would do anything to see you genuinely smile again.”

 

Kakashi reaches out and takes one of Iruka’s hands into his bandaged ones. Iruka doesn’t fight it. He’s never heard Kakashi say so much in an entire day, and he is overwhelmed and not quite sure what to think. Kakashi holds Iruka’s hand firmly between his, reassuring.

 

“You don’t have to suffer, Iruka. I don’t want you to suffer.”

 

For long seconds, Iruka stares at their hands, his mouth gaping with unspoken words. What could he possibly say? His mind is whirring at an incomprehensible speed, and he can feel exhaustion creeping up on him. He gently squeezes one of Kakashi’s hands with his own, giving Kakashi a small, genuine smile.

 

“I’ll try,” Iruka says quietly, barely able to speak. “I’ll try for everyone. I’ll try for you.”

 

Kakashi smiles behind his mask.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Kakashi closes the door to Iruka’s hospital room shortly after Iruka knocks out from exhaustion. He didn’t expect to have that conversation with Iruka at all, but he admits to himself that it felt good to finally establish that understanding between them. He had never guessed throughout the time he’d been spending with Iruka that Iruka had suffered a fate similar to his. He knows Iruka’s path to recovery will be long and arduous, but Kakashi knows deep down that he’ll do whatever he can to help Iruka along the way.

 

Not for the first time, Kakashi is debating with himself about why he is so dead set on helping Iruka recover from his trauma when a voice from his right interrupts his thoughts.

 

“How long has it been going on, Kakashi-sensei?”

 

“Maa, I don’t know what you mean, Sakura.” Kakashi avoids her gaze.

 

“You can’t fool me,” she says in hushed tones. “I can tell when someone can’t keep their control under control, and you made a huge display of it on our mission.”

 

“Let’s just say I’m keeping that part out of the report.”

 

“Have you reached out for treatment?”

 

“Not quite…”

 

“Kakashi-sensei!” Sakura steps in front of him, her eyes alarmed as she tries to keep her voice lowered. “You can permanently damage your chakra pathways to the point where they don’t function anymore. The amount of chakra you unleashed on the mission will have severe side-effects if you don’t go into therapy!”

 

Kakashi knows this. His hands had already started shaking moments after Iruka fell asleep.

 

“Sakura, I appreciate your concern, but you don’t have anything to worry about. I just haven’t perfected my new technique yet, and I went a little overboard.”

 

“Don’t lie to me.” Sakura looks genuinely hurt. Kakashi sighs, guilt heavy in his chest.

 

“I’m sorry to worry you,” he says softly, patting her on the shoulder, hoping she won’t notice the tremble in his hands. “I’ll look into therapy if I experience any of those severe side effects, okay?”

 

“Promise me,” Sakura demands, her voice stern. Kakashi smiles at her.

 

“I promise.”

 

He feels terrible for lying.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 coming soon.
> 
> To spycaptain and the readers - sorry for the cliffhanger, but I hope you enjoyed the fic. I accidentally ran away with spycaptain's prompt, and was not able to finish the entire story I wanted to tell for our two favorite shinobi before the deadline for the fic. Instead of scrapping the idea and writing something I didn't want to, I went out on a limb and finished the first half for the fest. I hope you stay tuned for part 2. :)


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